Masquerade (Creepy Hollow, #4) Page 4

  I open my eyes.

  I roll over, trying to hold onto the rapidly dispersing fragments of the dream. I was happy there, and though I can’t remember why, I know I’m not happy here. What happened? It was something to do with . . .

  Nate.

  I groan and pull the cover over my head, but the knocking doesn’t stop. “Fine,” I shout. I throw the cover back and stare at the enchanted skylight in the ceiling above my head. There’s far too much light coming through it. And it’s not the weekend yet, which means . . . Crap, I’m late for training. And there’s still some idiot banging on my door.

  I stomp downstairs, not bothering to give a damn about my appearance. I swipe my hand across the wall and stand in the doorway with my hands on my hips.

  “Finally,” says Ryn. He pushes past me before I can say a word.

  “Oh, sure,” I mutter. “Feel free to walk right in.” I let the doorway seal up and head to the kitchen. “What do you want now? Another location check-up of your sister?”

  “Yes, among other things.” He sits down at the kitchen table while I find a few pieces of fruit, throw them into a glass, and tell them to blend themselves. “I did some poking around after I left here. Turns out that mansion belongs to—wait for it—the youngest son of the Unseelie queen.”

  I sit down across from him. “Wow. I wouldn’t have guessed that. Why does he have a human home? And how exactly did you find this out?”

  Ryn shrugs. “I have friends in low places.”

  “I’m sure you do.” I stop the mini whirlpool currently happening in my glass and take a sip of the smoothie. “So you haven’t slept since you left here?”

  “No. Anyway, I found out something else. Something perfect. There’s a big celebration happening there this weekend—it’s his first century birthday or something—and it starts tonight with a masquerade ball.”

  “Right. And that’s perfect how exactly?”

  Ryn leans forward. “How easy would it be to hijack one of the guests and take their place? And it’s a masquerade, which means masks. I could keep my face concealed the entire time.”

  “Great plan. But I still don’t see why you’re sitting in my kitchen telling me about it.”

  “Uh, yeah.” He looks down at his lap. “So . . . it sounds to me like this is the kind of thing where you take a partner. I’d be highly conspicuous if I arrived alone.”

  I close my eyes and let out a long sigh, because I can see exactly where this is going. “You want me to go with you.”

  “Yes. Some of the guests are human, so it should be easy to enchant them into a sleep or something before they arrive. Then we can take their invitation and their masks, and their driver can deliver us right to the front door. Hopefully whoever’s checking the invitations doesn’t know what everyone looks like, but we can put the masks on just to be safe. Then once we’re inside we just have to find Calla and sneak her out.” He pauses. “You look terrible, by the way. I hope you can fix that before tonight.”

  I cross my arms. “What a charmer you are. I can see why all the girls like to hang around you.”

  “Actually, I’d prefer it if they didn’t.”

  “And why is that exactly?”

  “Life’s just easier that way. So are you going to help me or not?”

  I shake my head in disbelief. “You certainly know how to present an offer in the least attractive way possible.”

  He purses his lips, considering me for a moment. Then he says, “I saved your life, remember?”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll help you save your sister. And then we’re square, right?”

  “Right.”

  I push away from the table and stand up. “So this thing is only tonight, which means I can still get some training in today.”

  “No, it means you have the rest of the day to cast yourself a ball gown.”

  A ball gown. Fan-freaking-tastic.

  *

  I can’t do it. I can’t make a ball gown. It was hard enough changing the color of my dress and underwear for my date with Nate, but now I’m supposed to take a piece of fabric and transform it into an entire gown? Not happening.

  So while Ryn spends his day at home catching up on sleep, I spend mine alternating between wrestling with the stupid piece of fabric and lying on my bed flipping through my mom’s old poetry books. I’m hoping the words of the ancient poets will distract me from my current top three Life Problems: One, I suck at something. Two, my ex-boyfriend recently broke my heart. Three, I’ll be risking my life later to help out the person I dislike most in the entire world. I do quite well with number one and three, but, considering many of the poems are about love, I can’t quite get rid of number two.

  When the sun’s rays finally disappear from my skylight and I hear a knock downstairs, I’m on my fifth or sixth attempt at clothes casting. My ‘ball gown’ currently resembles a strangled bath robe that had a fight with a pair of scissors and then got over-friendly with an ostrich. At least, I think those are feathers. I’m not quite sure since I certainly didn’t plan for them to be there.

  I stand on the staircase and open up for Ryn, then run back into my room and stuff the dress under my bed. I twist a piece of hair around my finger. So this is what trainees feel like when they don’t complete their homework on time. Oh, hell. Ryn is so going to kill me. Why didn’t I just ask Raven for help? I’m sure I could have come up with a believable reason for why I need a ball gown.

  My bedroom door swings open and there stands Ryn, irritatingly good-looking in a suit. “You’re not ready yet.”

  “Don’t you knock? I could have been naked.”

  “You would have squealed or something. Now hurry up, we’re already late.”

  Time to confess. “I can’t go anywhere until I have something to wear.”

  “What? You haven’t done the dress yet? What have you been doing all day?”

  I throw my hands up. “I’m not a clothes caster, okay. I have zero skills in this area.”

  “Well, as much as I’d like to gloat that I’ve finally found something the great Violet Fairdale can’t do, I really don’t have time right now. And you could have told me about this problem earlier.”

  “What exactly would you have done about it, Ryn? Made the dress yourself?”

  “Just get yourself ready, dammit!” he shouts.

  “I can’t if you’re standing in my room!” I shout back before slamming the door in his face. I’ll get myself ready, all right. And I’ll walk in there wearing my multi-slitted, feather-adorned bath robe if I have to. I stand in front of my mirror and conjure up a few hair pins. I separate my hair into several sections and twist and pin them to my head. Nothing spectacular, but it’ll have to do. As an afterthought, I add a tiny flower to the end of each pin.

  Makeup. Hmm. My mother was never around to teach me any spells, but I’ve watched Raven touching up her face often enough to know the basics. I try out the spell for powder and watch as a fine layer covers my fingers. Great, at least I can get that right. I pat my hands over my face, change the color to pink for my cheeks, and apply lipstick from the end of my finger. I’m actually starting to have fun painting my face when I hear a knock on my door.

  I open up to find Ryn clutching a black and silver dress that looks miles better than the one currently hiding under my bed. “Where did that come from? Your private dress-up box?”

  Ryn shoves the dress into my arms. “Let’s just say I borrowed it.”

  “And you didn’t think to borrow a dress for me this morning?”

  “I didn’t think you’d approve of borrowing.”

  “If borrowing means stealing, then no, I don’t approve.”

  “Then I’ll take it back when you’re finished with it. Now please just put it on.”

  I close the door—minus the slamming this time—and lay the dress on the bed. It’s actually two pieces. The bodice is black with fine silver detail embroidered onto it, and the skirt is made from a fabric covered in swirling blac
k and silver patterns. I bend to pick up something that fell on the floor and find a pair of elbow-length black gloves.

  Before getting into the dress, I retrieve my emergency kit from my training bag. I may not know how to cast clothes, but I have been taught to resize things in order to easily carry them while on assignment. In less than ten seconds, my emergency kit is the size of a grape. I grab my right boot and click open the hidden compartment in the sole. In goes my emergency kit. Then I set about transforming the flat heels into something higher. Not the most elegant of shoes, but I don’t plan on anyone looking under my skirt.

  Five minutes later I swing my door open. Ryn clears his throat. “Wow. Who would have thought you could look like such a lady?” I allow myself a sly smile. What he doesn’t know is that underneath this I’m wearing shorts, boots, and a knife strapped to each leg. Lady, my ass. Ryn frowns. “You need more cleavage.”

  “I do not need more cleavage.”

  “Just a little bit.”

  “Ryn.”

  “Look, I’m just saying it would be easier to get past the guy at the door if you had a little more chest to flash at him.”

  “And what if it’s a girl who’s at the door?”

  He gives me a cocky smile. “Well, we’ve got that part covered then, haven’t we?” I cross my gloved arms and glare at him. “There, perfect!” he says, pointing at my chest. “Now just keep your arms crossed.”

  I groan as I force my arms to my sides. “Can we go now? Oh, wait. Just one more thing.” I hurry back across my room to the small table beside my bed. I haven’t used the griffin disc since Nate and I returned from the Labyrinth, but something tells me I may need it tonight. I pull open the drawer.

  The disc is gone.

  “Ugh!” I stamp the floor with my newly transformed heel. “That traitorous thief!” Nate must have taken the disc the same night we returned from the labyrinth. Why? To give it to Zell? To use it himself?

  “Violet? Is there a problem?”

  Now is definitely not the best time to ponder Nate’s motivations. “Nope. Everything is just damn peachy. Let’s go.” I slam the drawer shut with such force that the table bangs against the wall. I slowly count to five before turning around. Ryn has already opened a doorway in the air and is tapping his foot impatiently. I take his outstretched hand and step into the void with him, doing my best to keep my mind blank.

  As the darkness of the faerie paths dissolves, I find we’re standing beside a road lined on either side with tall trees. High above us, they reach across the road to touch each other, like hands joining to form a tunnel. At the base of each tree is a small light.

  “This is the road that leads up to the mansion,” says Ryn.

  “Okay. So now we wait for some human guests to drive by and we ambush them, is that right?”

  “Done.” Ryn points past me into the trees. I turn, but can’t make anything out until I take a few steps away from the road. Then I see the sleek black edge of a car sticking out from behind a bush.

  “When did you do this?”

  “Just before I came over to your house this evening. I stood in the middle of the road and waved my arms around like an idiot. After the driver pulled over, I stunned him and threw one of those sleeping bombs into the back to put the two guests to sleep.”

  “You wasted energy on stunning someone?”

  “He’s human; it hardly took any effort at all. I think I used up more power moving the limo into the trees.” Ryn walks past me and opens one of the doors. “Climb in,” he says. “And mind the bodies.”

  I bend slightly and look inside the car. The interior is long and spacious with plush seats, several television screens, and a compartment full of drinks and glasses. On the floor of the vehicle lie two unconscious humans. I straighten. “I don’t feel right about this, Ryn. Maybe you should have gone to the Guild and told them what you know. They can deal with this the official way.”

  “The official way? Do you know how long the official way would take? These are members of the Unseelie Court we’re dealing with, and you know what a delicate balance exists between the courts. The Guild would have to be extremely careful not to upset that balance, and by the time they’ve gone through all the right channels, anything could have happened to Calla.”

  “And what are you going to say when you get her safely home and everyone wants to know how and where you found her?”

  “I don’t know, I’ll figure out some story. Right now all I care about is finding her.”

  I put my hands on my hips and stare down at the ground. If I had a little sister and she went missing, I sure wouldn’t wait around for the Guild to find her. So who am I to tell Ryn he should be doing anything different? Decision made, I hold my skirt up and climb into the car.

  “Okay, here’s the invitation.” Ryn hands me an ornately decorated card. “Don’t lose it. And here’s a mask for you. I’ll be in the front compartment making sure the driver does what he’s told.”

  “What are you—Actually, never mind. I don’t think I want to know.” I pull the door shut and yank the gloves off my arms; they’re making my skin itch. I pick up the invitation and read the names. Anton and Julia de Rossi. I wonder how they got involved in the fae world. It’s against the Law, of course, but members of the Unseelie Court don’t seem to concern themselves much with things like laws.

  I hear an exclamation of surprise from the front, followed by a low voice. With a lurch, the car starts moving backward. I hold onto the door handle to stop myself from sliding across the seat. It’s my first time inside a car, and it seems like a clumsy and time-consuming method of transport to me. I’m glad I have faerie paths to travel by.

  The lights and trees slide quickly by as the car gets going along the road. I look down at the mask in my lap. It’s a simple shape that covers only the eyes. The feathers protruding from the top remind me of the fashion monstrosity I created earlier. I place it over my face and tie the ribbons behind my head. I’ll try not to imagine myself as an ostrich.

  Before long, we drive through a gate. I twist in my seat to look back and see the shape of a dragon sitting atop the two pillars that flank the gate. The car slows as we drive around a fountain and come to a stop in front of the main entrance to the mansion. A male faerie strides over and opens my door, then steps back as I climb out of the car. A look of confusion crosses his face as he sees Ryn getting out of the front. Oops. That’s obviously not the done thing around here.

  “Darling, I’m so sorry,” says Ryn, coming toward me. “Let’s not fight anymore.” He places a hand on my waist and lightly kisses my cheek. I fight the urge to wriggle away from him, because Ryn kissing me is just plain weird. He links my arm through his as we walk up the stairway to the entrance, and it’s at that point that I realize just what we’re getting ourselves into. We’re willingly surrounding ourselves with enemies of both the Guild and the Seelie Court. If someone finds out who we really are, we may not come out of here.

  “Don’t you dare panic,” mutters Ryn, as though sensing my nerves through my skin. “This is what you’re training to become. This is what real guardians do.”

  I plaster a smile onto my face as we near the doorway. The faerie standing behind the lectern is chatting with a couple dressed all in black. “And don’t forget the no-magic rule, Mrs Hawthorne,” he says.

  The woman laughs. “There’s no way I could forget that rule. I was more than a little embarrassed last time when I tried to conjure up a glass of wine and that dreadful alarm went off.”

  I squeeze Ryn’s arm and he nods. A magic alarm. Good thing I brought some real knives with. We step forward as the faerie holds his hand out for our invitation. “Mr and Mrs de Rossi, good evening.” He makes a mark with his stylus on the page in front of him, then fake-smiles at us. “I see you’ve dyed your hair in honor of the occasion.” He winks as Ryn’s arm tenses ever so slightly. “You’ll fit right in here.”

  Crap. Our hair. I didn’t even think of that. />
  Before I can give the matter any further thought, we’re ushered through an entrance hall and into a crowded ballroom. My senses are immediately assaulted. Colors, feathers, sparkles. Masks of all shapes and sizes. Dresses made of flames, smoke, water. A hundred perfumes fill the air. Couples twirl in perfect unison about the dance floor. A string quartet, raised on a platform on one side of the room, plays a melody so irresistible that even I feel an instinctive urge to dance.

  “Focus,” says Ryn. He touches the bracelet on my wrist. “Is Calla still in the same place?”

  We casually wander around the edge of the room while I send my mind out to find the little girl. When I look through her eyes, I see the same room. She’s leaning against the door though. Listening. She can hear the music downstairs. “Yes. And she’s alone still. She’s alone every time I search for her.”

  Ryn nods. “Makes sense.”

  “What do you—” I stop. I stare. About ten people away from me, standing slightly taller than everyone else, and with no mask covering his face, is Nate.

  The sudden flood of emotions that bombards me condenses into a physical pain. My heart, my lungs, my stomach. It all hurts.

  Ryn turns back to me, pressing a hand to his chest. “What happened?” I can’t answer. I can’t breathe. All I can do is stare over his shoulder at the person I’d like to simultaneously hit, scream at, and wrap my arms around. Ryn follows my gaze. “Ah. I see.”

  Nate’s expression is sullen. His arms are crossed over his chest as he surveys the ballroom. I watch as a girl walks up to him. She traces a finger down his arm. When she whispers in his ear, his expression softens. As she turns away from him, a sultry smile upon her lips, I recognize her. Scarlett.

  Something boils inside me. How dare he? Is he with her? Without another thought, I set off in his direction. But I’ve barely taken two steps when Ryn grabs my hand and pulls me into his arms. “Not so fast, Pixie Sticks,” he says, gracefully spinning us into the crowd of dancers. “Can’t have you rushing off after halfing boy. That would ruin the plan.”